


Flowers for a Princess

by merryfortune



Category: Kuroko no Basuke | Kuroko's Basketball
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fuedal Japan, Gen, Historically Inaccurate, Implied Domestic Violence, Momoi Satsuki Week 2016, death of a minor character (suicide)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-08
Updated: 2016-05-08
Packaged: 2018-06-07 01:20:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,204
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6779464
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/merryfortune/pseuds/merryfortune
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Momoi Kingdom is at losing a terrible war and the heir, Lady Satsuki, wishes for nothing more than to take charge and be the heroine who leads her land into peace and victory. Her suffocating father has forbidden her the art of warfare so she has to try a different tactic to bring peace to her people: she must become the wife of one the men invading her land.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Flowers for a Princess

   Lady Satsuki was a warrior. She was a graceful maiden from aristocratic society but she had tactical prowess her vassals lacked. Even though she had been trained to defend, her father did not want his precious daughter fighting alongside his gruesome soldiers. Satsuki was fit to lounge around with coiffed hair and refined beauty.

   Her handmaidens helped dress her in her exquisite kimono of a floral pattern. Satsuki liked it. It complimented her. People always saw her as a flower; an unfortunate flower in the midst of bloodshed. Her father and her clan were at war with surrounding lands and they were losing.

   Satsuki wanted to go and join the crusades; it was her role as a woman trained in bravery and war. She had thousands of ideas as to how they could improve manpower and so many strategies that would give them the edge that they needed in this bloody time but her father was not interested in listening. He refused to believe that his daughter excelled and exceeded in the art of warfare. She was not allowed to usurp his area of expertise. It insulted him and he was a man who did not enjoy having his pride wounded.

   He would take a pound of flesh where dues needed to be paid. Satsuki ought to know. Her mother ought to know: her mother who had disembowelled herself out of pride when she had been disrespected once too many times.

   Her handmaidens tightened the obi and Satsuki barely noticed. Her mind was elsewhere. She was thinking of her future. She did not delight in her prospects.

   Today was going to be a day of peaceful negotiations; if all went correctly and as her father planned. Today was going to be a day when she became branded as some stringer’s wife. She had never met any of the three princes but she knew of their legends. They were all the sons of fathers at war with her own father. Today, Satsuki was her father’s precious bargaining chip.

   Yesterday, the grain stores at been burnt and last week, the rice paddies had been damaged by the fighting. Slowly, the lands Satsuki’s father held preciously were crumbling and now he was at his last resort. Satsuki hoped that he was at his last resort. She couldn’t stomach the idea of her beloved kin selling her because things were a little bad.

   Satsuki took a breath and assessed what she knew of these men. She did not them personally. She only knew what she had heard in private tearooms.

   Prince Shintaro of the Midorima Kingdom was tall. He was an archer with a perfect aim. He couldn’t miss his game. He was mild mannered and intelligent. However, he was not without his quirks. He was superstitious beyond belief and according to rumour, he would much rather marry his most beloved samurai retainer, Takao Kazunari. It seemed his tastes were purely with the same sex.

   Prince Ryouta of the Kise Kingdom was elegant and definitely had tastes for women; even though he too was perhaps too attached to his guard as well. He was charming and handsome. He was the picture of perfection. He was the needed paradox: open but closed, silly but sly. However, he had his drawbacks as well. He was a serial sleaze; lying with anyone and everyone. He was vain as well.

   Sastuki was vain as well. She could denounce her flaws openly because they were true. They were gossiped about. She refused to share a space with some who was reputably worse than her.

   The third prince that Satsuki was being sacrificed to was Prince Seijuro of the Akashi Kingdom. From what she had gathered, he was the worst of the three. He was intelligent and had a fondness for shogi. He was ruthless. His methods of warfare are cruel. His power was growing and growing. He could see the future, apparently, and he could see all because of it. His people were terrified of him. People spoke about him hushed whispers.

   Satsuki considered herself somewhat of an analyst. She hated to admit it but if she wanted peace for her people, then she would have to seduce Prince Akashi. The other two would not be fickle and hurt if she chose him. They would not dare attack the Akashi-Momoi kingdom for it would be death. Prince Seijuro will make a good leader; whether or not he would be a good husband was irrelevant.

   ‘My lady,’ Aika said, ‘we must be leaving if you are to meet your suitors.’ Satsuki was led from her room of silks and sloth and into the threshold between the world of niceties and bloodshed. It was here that Satsuki would cease being the flower in the midst of bloodshed. It was here that she would become the bloodshed because of a war of words was about to break out. The only type of war her father would willingly put her near.

   Her two guards had been waiting outside. Aomine had been her lifelong companion and in private, she would call him by an intimate pet name: “Dai-chan”. he was an abrasive man but he had been with her since thick and thin. Satsuki was strong but he was stronger.

   Her other guard was Kuroko, he was a shinobi by talent but had settled into the permanent occupation of guarding Satsuki. He was quiet and mysterious: as expected of one trained for stealth and warfare: a literal shadow. He was a noble man however.

   ‘Satsuki-sama, your naginata.’ Aomine said and he handed her the bladed weapon. Satsuki accepted it graciously and hid it in her sleeve. She didn’t feel safe without it. Her handmaidens turned a blind eye. Satsuki’s father had forbidden her from many things and the use of a naginata was one of them. ‘Thank you.’ Satsuki murmured and she was then led onwards.

   Once upon a time, Satsuki had had unrequited affections for both of them. When she was a child, she thought Aomine would be hers’ forever because he was always by her side. Then she got older and realised she didn’t belong to him; he belonged to her. He wasn’t of aristocratic heritage.

   When she was an adolescent, and when Kuroko had first started working for her father, she fell in love with him as she had grown out of romantic affections for Aomine. Satsuki hadn’t liked Kuroko at first; she thought he was arrogant as he paid no mind to her, only his job, but then he gave her some of her rations and that changed her mind about his personality completely. He had given her all of his sweets, a rare treat for a body guard, and that’s when Satsuki found herself with a blossoming love for him but she had learned from her first love and knew it would be the same as her second.

   A trivial piece of gossip Satsuki knew about Aomine and Kuroko amused her. Her ‘friend’ lady Aida of the Hyuuga kingdom had a guard named Kagami Taiga and apparently, there was something of a love triangle unfolding between him and Satsuki’s guards however Aida had told her that if any outcome was to arrive, it would seem that Kagami’s affections lie with the ‘shadow’.

   Satsuki arrived in front of the screen door. She could see silhouettes of men. In her heart, she dearly clutched onto the feelings her previous loves had given her. She was uneasy because there was no romanticism or innocence. Not here, on the cusp of her third love.

   The three princes were kneeling on tatami mats with Satsuki’s parents. The princes’ vassals were at the ready and surveying the room for “invisible” threats; also known as each other. Everyone in the room was strained and tense. The conversation halted when they all realised that Satsuki had arrived. The conversation, from what Satsuki had heard when she had approached the room, had been utterly fake. It had all the fragility of glass and could not have been more two-faced.

   Satsuki smiled. She could taste the hated in the room and it caused a true pump of loath through her veins. Her heart trembled. Her hands shook but she maintained herself. She had to be as she had taught; or else she may find herself using her mother’s naginata.

   Satsuki’s father rose from where he had been kneeling. His face was crinkly and he smiled. He affectionately greeted his daughter and Satsuki responded appropriately. He presented her to the three princes.

   She smiled a smile that could make flowers grow. She received three very different reactions. Prince Shintaro smiled curtly and politely. Prince Kise became ecstatic and appeared to be completely enchanted by the smile. Prince Seijuro was indifferent. If anything, he scowled at Satsuki.

   ‘Good afternoon, it is a pleasure to meet you all.’ Satsuki spoke like a puppet. Her father guided her to where she was needed. She knelt down. ‘I am so pleased to make your acquaintance. Today is a big day for us all.’

   Satsuki could not restrain how much she hated her situation. She wanted to be in charge. She wanted to be leading. But no, she had to be the submissive. She had to be the perfect lady in order to attract a husband, to extrapolate a husband from Prince Seijuro. She had to face it all if she wanted to attract peace.

   Satsuki loved her kingdom. She loved meeting those who worked the fields and built the infrastructure. She wanted to ensure the best for her people. She treasured the strangers who died in childbirth, struggled with leprosy, and a whole host of other plagues that could slay the common people mercilessly. In her room of silks and sloth, Satsuki was untouched by it all but deep in her heart; she cared with all her might about the welfare of these people who would not once glimpse her.

   The conversation did not continue. There was an exchange of different looks between all the men in the room, all of which communicated back to the sole flower in the room. Satsuki waited patiently.

   It was Prince Kise who broke the silence. Judging from the ignorant delight on his face, he could no longer contain himself. ‘Tell us about yourself, Satsuki-sama. You certainly are a magnificent beauty; the rumours and paintings do not do you justice.’

‘You flatter me, Ryouta-sama. You are remarkable yourself.’ Satsuki replied.

   She risked a glance at her father. His expression softened and he seemed relaxed. He had been concerned that the silence was hostile but he could see now that it had been simply awkward. Everybody here had something they wanted to share and nobody knew who to allow to speak first; they did know who to speak last however.

   ‘Tell me, Satsuki-sama, what are your interests.’ Prince Seijuro continued the conversation to everyone’s shock. There had been flinches as swift as a blink but Satsuki caught them all.

‘I have a passion for shogi. I love games of strategy.’ Satsuki replied. Her father tensed. She had said too much.

   The answer did not displease Prince Seijuro. It did not please him either and Satsuki cursed herself. She had to appeal to the prince of red hair and heterochromatic eyes.

   The answer intrigued Prince Shintaro. His interest became more apparent, his eyes lightened. ‘Do you consider yourself an intellectual?’ he asked.

‘Most definitely. Nothing pleases me more than studying and learning new skills.’ Satsuki replied. Prince Shintaro’s interest in her had been thoroughly established now. Again, Prince Seijuro confined himself to a mask of neutrality. However, it seems that Prince Ryouta had lost interest.

   Yet Prince Ryouta seemed determined to keep himself linked in and a viable suitor. ‘A beautiful lady such as yourself must have an eye for beauty? Do you enjoy flower arrangement?’ Prince Ryouta asked. ‘I have an interest in the art and it would be nice if my wife shared the passion.’

   Satsuki took a breath. She had to ward herself against Prince Ryouta. She was here to become the lady of Prince Akashi. She had to do it for the people scarred and mangled by the bloodshed and war that had led to this negotiation.

   ‘I found it too trivial. It wasn’t challenging enough for me.’ Satsuki replied. Her inflection was carefully altered in order to rile up Prince Ryouta but keep the other two princes hooked.

   Prince Ryouta huffed and grew indignant and petulant. His vanity and selfishness simmered to his handsome face and completely changed it. Although he was pretty, he was also ugly: he truly was the perfect paradox. He was exactly like Satsuki had expected. His vassal – Kasamatsu Yukio – struggled in the background. He looked as though he wanted to murder the young prince and apparently Prince Shintaro’s vassal found that amusing as he had to stifle a chuckle as a cough.

   Satsuki’s father also looked murderous but what was point? She could only marry one man.

   Prince Ryouta shifted and his eyes were glazed with self-serving distaste. ‘I have decided that perhaps this arrangement is not for ne but fear no for my soldiers will retract out of his land; perhaps trade can be established. We can talk more about politics elsewhere, in a different set of negotiations.’

   Prince Ryouta’s manners were in complete disarray. Satsuki had never witnessed such a rude demeanour before and she had met many uncouth men in her time. Kagami’s behaviour was appalling but Prince Ryouta’s seemed to be worse.

   The atmosphere of the room changed and it clenched tightly. The tension was torturously thick. Satsuki had to recompose herself; she had to reign in this situation and deal with as elegantly as possible. She was completely unsure of how she was going to do that so she decided to allow her best skills guide her forward.

   In her mind’s eyes, she could see everything about a person. She could see how they treated themselves and others; she could make accurate estimations about anything a person can convey in how they look, act, carry, and dress. Prince Ryouta disliked her so she no longer to worry about him so now she had to start repelling Prince Shintaro however Satsuki had estimated that Prince Shintaro and Prince Seijuro were quite similar in what they were looking for out of her. It was going to take a lot of finesse in order to split the two’s attraction.

   Satsuki could see Prince Shintaro was a careful man. For a hard worker, his hands seemed babyishly soft and therefore he was also a deeply flawed man of pride and vanity but he was not as bad as her or Prince Ryouta. There was a strange callous on his fingers; the mark of a writer.

   Or, perhaps, it would take none at all. Prince Ryouta and Prince Shintaro allegedly hated each other and since Prince Ryouta, despite having all the intent of leaving, had not which meant that he was petty and if he couldn’t have Satsuki than neither could his greatest enemy. Satsuki was unsure of why they had such poor views of one another but it could work amazingly to her advantage.

   She just needed a way to prompt them both into spiralling out of control. Satsuki kept her eyes lingering on Prince Shintaro’s hands. He noticed. ‘Something wrong, Satsuki-sama?’ he asked.

‘I am curious; may I ask if you enjoy poetry or similar written words?’ Satsuki asked.

   Prince Seijuro made no reaction and moody Prince Ryouta changed demeanour again completely. He was reeled in and interested but there was something about his fox-like eyes that hinted mischief. He smirked and took a breath; his smirk disappeared and became nothing.

   Satsuki felt good about this behaviour. It was volatile and it exemplified the blonde prince’s foibles. They would emerge soon with disastrous consequence. She just had to keep the consequence low.

   ‘There is a true beauty in writing. Unlike flowers, words do not die. I have taken up poetry and music as hobbies for when it is too dangerous for me to hone my archery skills.’ Prince Shintaro confessed.

‘I may find flower arrangement unchallenging but I appreciate the beauty. There is true challenge and true beauty in poetry. I love capturing the verdant springs and serene summers outside my window on my parchment. It has a calming effect, doesn’t it?’ Satsuki mused.

‘This is the first I’ve heard of both of you being such wordsmiths.’ Prince Ryouta said and he stopped facing Satsuki. He turned his attention completely to Prince Shintaro.

   No one could miss the deviant gleam in Prince Ryouta’s golden eyes. He smiled venomously. Satsuki relished it. Her father feared it and it made Prince Shintaro uncomfortable. He feared it more than Satsuki’s father.

   ‘Tell me, my dear old friend Midorimacchi-sama, what do you write about?’ Prince Ryouta asked. The man was a devil and whatever answer he was expecting to elicit from Prince Shintaro seemed strangely likely. Without their history, Satsuki wasn’t certain what to expect. She couldn’t make plans so she scanned the room for people with similar histories.

   She searched for someone with such history and a lack of discipline: the guards of the two princes. Takao seemed uneasy. There was a light quiver in his shoulders. He was easy to read but Satsuki wasn’t sure if bias was clouding her judgement or not. As far as she knew, Prince Shintaro’s exclusive tastes for the same sex could be something someone started as a means of slander. Was she being too hopeful?

   Kasamatsu was slightly harder to read. He seemed to be a man of righteous fury. He had more manners than Prince Ryouta. He was definitely the disciplinary type and he had not dropped that almost murderous glare in his eyes: a murderous glare that could turn to the murder of a young, handsome prince.

   Satsuki was unsure of what it all meant. She would simply have to wait.

   ‘Come on now, Midorimacchi-sama; tell us what you write about? I’m sure a man of few words like yourself must have beautiful prose.’ Prince Ryouta asked and Prince Shintaro guarded himself with a stony face. He walled himself from Prince Ryouta’s provoking question. Prince Ryouta refused to bow. ‘Do you write of the passage of time, of youth gone by... or do you write about your ideal lover, of carnal desire?’

   Takao squirmed. Prince Shintaro elegantly maintained himself. ‘Do you write about Takaocchi-han’s luscious, thick-

‘Enough!’ barked Prince Shintaro and he slammed his hands on the table. His voice resounded through the room. ‘I will not tolerate this conversation any longer. You’re personal qualms with me, Ryouta are not be brought up at this negotiation. Have some respect for Satsuki-sama!’

   _Well_ , Satsuki thought to herself and she glanced at Prince Shintaro’s vassal. He was a youthful boy with sharp eyes and messy hair. He appeared as the type of samurai who could be quite popular in the red light district.

   She glanced at her father. He was a storm trapped in a jar. He could do nothing but watch the young, petulant princes bicker. He could barely tolerate the rude behaviour in the room and the scandals emerging. His only saving grace was the silent Prince Seijuro. He had only spoken once thus far. He was a true model of behaviour coded by all.

   He smiled gently, a shock to all and especially his two vassals; men Satsuki did not know the name of. She knew next to nothing about the Akashi kingdom. One, a light-haired and short samurai, quaked in his sandals. ‘Tell me, Satsuki-sama, would you like to marry me?’ he asked.

‘Yes.’ Satsuki replied. She didn’t think that it would be so effortless. She glanced at the other princes, they were in no state to propose or argue.

   Prince Seijuro smiled; again to the displeasure and shock of his two guards. ‘Are you certain?’

‘Of course.’ Satsuki replied. She gave no hints as to her wavering will. She thought only of the peace that would be brought by the unity between her and Prince Seijuro’s lands.

‘You seem like a good woman, Satsuki-sama, I hope we get along.’ Prince Seijuro said.

‘My sentiments exactly, Seijuro-sama.’ Satsuki agreed.

   An agreement had been wrought and the other two princes left but somehow, Satsuki suspected that there was still something on Prince Seijuro’s mind that he wanted to bring up and now it was just them, their guards, and her father.

   ‘Before we get to formalities, father-in-law-sama, I must ask you something: are you aware that your daughter has plans for your murder?’ Prince Seijuro asked. Satsuki’s eyes widened. All she could hear was the deafening boom of her heart pounding in her chest. All she could feel was the cool steel of her mother’s naginata against her arm. ‘I beg your pardon?’ Satsuki murmured, shock slowed the blood in her veins and true terror was unveiled on her pretty face. True hatred was unveiled on her father’s face. An all-knowing glint was in Prince Seijuro’s strange eyes.

   Prince Seijuro repeated his question with the exact same wording: ‘Satsuki-sama, tell me, how long has regicide plagued your mind?’

‘I apologise but I would do no such thing. I would not murder my father the king.’ Satsuki replied but who was she kidding?

   If it came down to it, she would. She would kill her father and avenge her mother’s honour. To protect herself, Satsuki’s mother had killed herself. That’s why Satsuki had been forbidden from so many things; why she hadn’t been fully trained as a noblewoman in this wartime era. Her father did not want his daughter to become like her mother.

   ‘I am certain that you know of my abilities. I can foresee the future and I have reason to believe that you will, sometime soon – within the next hour – you will murder your father because something about my behaviour will trigger it.’ Prince Seijuro informed the room.

   Her father was furious. ‘I believe that this may be the behaviour that triggers the murder, Seijuro-sama.’ Satsuki replied, respectfully.

‘Furihata! Mayuzumi! I would like it if you both constrain Momoi-sama. I am trying to a conversation and I believe it would be rude if he tries to kill his daughter during it.’

   Satsuki felt unarmed. She felt naked. She felt useless and powerless and this was not how she had anticipated today to be like. She had so many plans and contingencies but none were applicable in this absurd situation. She knelt patiently whilst Prince Seijuro’s guards fulfiled their prince’s orders. Her father raged against them and screamed obscenities towards her and Prince Seijuro.

   Prince Seijuro was calm. He sipped his tea. ‘I have rumours of you being a poor bride. You are a marvellous taction from what I have derived from the future, but a poor bride: unable to cook even the simplest of meals. Is this true?’

‘Yes.’ Satsuki replied.

   Her father’s wails drifted off as he was taken into another room by Prince Seijuro’s guards. Her own vassals stood nonplussed and horrified.

   ‘So you are now free to speak as you please. I am curious, how long have to been mulling over the murder of your own father.’

‘Since my mother died.’ Satsuki replied. ‘She killed herself because she didn’t want to be mistreated by him any longer. I wanted revenge.’

‘That sounds reasonable.’ Prince Seijuro said and he got up. ‘Come on now, we must make arrangements for you to get to my kingdom. The marriage proposal still stands.’

   Satsuki got up and she smiled. ‘no.’ she chirped brightly, loudly. ‘Get out of my kingdom. You said I can speak freely and I am going to choose my own path as heir to the Momoi Kingdom. I am going to do as I please and I am going to invade your country and get revenge. All of it.’

   She spoke serenely with gleeful inflections. ‘Kuroko, Aomine, please remove this villain from my presence and then, we are going to start making plans for war because I am going to rule from now on. I choose my kingdom above all else and I will get my way.’ Satsuki announced.

   Prince Seijuro’s face fell back to neutrality. ‘Hm, and here I thought I was preventing the murder of a king. I accept your declaration of war. Expect my worst, I suppose.’

‘And expect my best.’ Satsuki said and she produce her naginata; her mother’s naginata. ‘You are without your guards and I have an entire army here. Are you certain you want to provoke me?’

‘You are an interesting woman. You would have made a fine wife.’ Prince Seijuro surrundered and he left peacefully.

   A terrible happiness welled up inside of Satsuki. She glared at the screen door and the fading silhouette of the red-haired prince. She turned to her guards. ‘Make sure he leaves without damaging property. Execute him if he does so much as look at something with distaste.’

‘Understood, Satsuki.’ Aomine said and Kuroko had already left.

   A new era in the Momoi Kingdom was about to begin and it would usher in peace forged in victory and blood.


End file.
